“God Be Merciful”
I’ve never prayed that prayer before in my entire life, but it was the prayer running through my mind this morning. Something felt different. I slipped on my clothes for the day and came downstairs to start some coffee and it just kept running through my mind. See the plan was a last minute one, but it was one to go see my Grandad in the hospital. He was back there again, after talking with him yesterday evening I knew something was wrong. They said he had had a min-stroke, I don’t know the total effects of it all, but something was just wrong. I had to be there. It was imperative, I had to be there.
God knew.
He put in my mind the conversation I had with him before last spring when he went to Montana. The doctors had told him if he went he wouldn’t be coming back alive. To which my Grandad had promptly replied that it was his God who was his great surgeon, none other. We had a great weekend before they left and I got the chance to pour my heart out, to tell him what a hero he is to me and to thousands of others - but I feel blessed because they may have called him “grandad” and yes we’re family through Christ, but I always always have felt just a bit more pride because he is my real Grandad.
God knew.
And when I saw my Dad calling - I knew too.
I knew in a heartbeat - “God be merciful” would be come the prayer for my family today, not my Grandad because God had already been merciful.
My heart broke, is breaking - but that prayer is for me today.
Grandad, it’s okay. You were so so tired last night. Thank you for answering your phone, it took so much out of you but it gave me the chance to tell you I love you. And I got to hear it too. You were so tired, you fought so hard for years - and all for us. Thank you for that gift. I can’t even imagine the lines and lines of people in heaven that you were the reason they are there. What a party you all must be having right now. I wish I could see it, I wish I could be cheering and celebrating with you. And I am, sort of. I am so happy for you and proud of you. I’m proud of the fight you put up and I’m proud that when God called your name, I’m sure you went sprinting into his arms. You my love have the highest honor from our Lord. My goodness if anyone has earned the privilege of hearing those words, “Well done my good and faithful servant,” it has been you. I’m sure they were said right before the biggest bear hug in the world from our Savior. You are standing - well, knowing you, you’re flat on your face in adoration and singing praises, but doing it all in the presence of the almighty God. I’m kind of jealous of that fact to be honest.
I love you so much. I love you. I can’t say it enough. But I love you. And I’m sad right now, because I miss you already. But I know you’ll be waiting to greet me someday, and don’t worry we’ll take care of your lovey who you married almost 60 years ago. I know she was the reason you hung around so long, I wouldn’t have wanted to leave someone so awesome either. She is beautiful, inside and out. You got yourself a catch my friend. I was thinking this morning before Dad had called about your boxing days and about being offered the chance to place professional baseball and your answer of “Sorry fellas, I gotta girl I’ve got to marry.” Boy, did you make the right choice or what?
I love you, thanks for being my hero.





















